


Roasted

by IrisPurpurea



Series: Inktober 2018 [3]
Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Ben Being Cute, F/M, Fluff, Leslie Being Crazy, Leslie Being Cute, Missing Moments, roasting marshmallows, season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 13:26:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17002515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrisPurpurea/pseuds/IrisPurpurea
Summary: Set after Season 4, Episode 5, “Halloween Surprise.” Leslie finds out Ben has never roasted marshmallows before.





	Roasted

“You… don’t?” Ben had expected Leslie to look surprised, but the expression on her face was far worse than surprise. She looked genuinely concerned. Betrayed, even. Ben finds he’s taken a step back from her, pushed away by the waves of shock radiating from her.

“I just… I never have, Leslie, I’m… I’m sorry?” Ben has no idea what to say to her. She hasn’t made this face at him since the first day they met, since he suggested Jerry Gergich be fired. Her nose is scrunched up, her fists clenched at her sides.

When she speaks, her voice is dangerously low. “How… Benjamin Wyatt… how could you not… how could you have never –

“Just… just calm down, hon, okay?” Leslie takes a step forward and he leaps backward and collides painfully with a stack of boxes. “I just… I just don’t know, hon, I’m sorry.”

A few seconds of tense silence pass between them. Ben is frozen on the spot, Leslie taking deep, heaving breaths. Then, slowly, her fists unclench, her face relaxes. Ben lowers his hands. “Ok,” Leslie says, running a hand through her hair. “Ok, ok, I can fix this. Just… just give me a minute.” She darts forward to plant a quick kiss on his cheek and in the next second, the garage door slams.

“What just…” The door slams again, and Leslie is back in a whirlwind, dumping a bundle form her arms onto the couch, shucking off her coat, and kneeling in front of the fireplace, pulling wads of crumpled newspaper from a bulging purse. “What on earth…” Ben can only stare as Leslie pulls a log out of her bag, because of course she can somehow fit multiple logs in her purse. “Wait, did you have those in there the whole –

She waves away the question. “Just grab those skewers, grab the bag of jumbo marshmallows, and get over here,” she snaps. She still sounds vaguely angry at him, and Ben has no choice but to comply. He snatches two skewers from the pile on the couch and the bag of jumbo marshmallows, upsetting several large chocolate bars in the process. Leslie is busy trying to get a fire going, her hair falling over her face as she mutters to herself. Watching her, Ben’s heart swells, warmth flooding his stomach. A fire springs up in the fireplace and he settles beside her, the fabric of his dress pants pulling uncomfortably around his knees, and he can’t resist setting the bag of marshmallows down to tuck her hair behind her ear and kiss her cheek. Her determined expression softens as she looks over at him.

“I just…” she shakes her head, “How on earth have you never roasted marshmallows before?”

Ben shrugs. “It’s just not something we did as kids, growing up, you know? Family camping trips just… weren’t a thing. And… you might be the only adult person I’ve met who actually makes s’mores…”

She shoves him with her shoulder, giggling. “Yeah, well, I’ve never understood why more people don’t just carry emergency s’mores rations in their car. I mean, it’s chocolate, sticky marshmallows, graham crackers… what’s not to love? It’s the ultimate comfort food.”

Ben gives her a soft smile, and then she’s handing him a skewer and a fat marshmallow, showing him the exact depth to which he should insert the skewer and the precise angle and height at which to hold it for “maximum golden-brown gooiness.” They sit in silence for a while, knees pressed together, Leslie’s head on his shoulder, watching the crackling fire, slowly turning their marshmallows before them. When they’ve reached appropriate levels of golden-brown gooiness, per Leslie’s meticulous standards, they blow on their marshmallows to cool them, then Leslie bites the whole thing off her skewer, to Ben’s surprise.

“You see,” she explains thickly, cheeks bulging, “it’s tradition to eat at least the first one. Go on, you try!” Ben raises an eyebrow at her, eyeing his marshmallow dubiously, before shrugging and taking a careful bite out of the top.

It isn’t bad, he’s surprised to find. It’s hot, sticky, vaguely smoky, and not unbearably sweet. Leslie’s eyeing him expectantly, so he grins at her, plucks the rest of the marshmallow from his skewer, and plops it into his mouth, licking his sticky thumb.

“Yay! Ben’s first marshmallow!” Leslie laughs, reaching for her phone to snap a quick picture. “This’ll go in the housewarming scrapbook for sure!” Of course she’s already planning a housewarming scrapbook. Ben looks at her, her face glowing in the firelight, her blue eyes dancing. It hits him in that moment; he’s moving into this house with this woman, his beautiful fiancé. He pulls her close to kiss her, tasting smoking sugar on her lips. It’s a while before they can pull away from each other, threading their fingers together, and he’s basking in Leslie’s soft smile.

“Well… I’m glad you enjoyed the marshmallow so much,” she finally says, and he laughs, squeezing her hand. “But we have yet to make you an actual s’more.”  
“Right, yeah, let’s get on that,” Ben agrees, grinning at her as he reaches for another marshmallow.

They make three s’mores apiece and soon there’s chocolate all around Leslie’s mouth, which Ben is compelled to kiss away. They burn a final marshmallow apiece, which almost sets Ben’s sleeve on fire. Then their arms are around each other, legs tangled together before the waning fire, Leslie’s fuzzy-sock-clad feet nudging his from time to time.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“I love you and I like you.”

“I love you and I like you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Part of a series of fics inspired by the Inktober 2018 Prompts. Day 3: Roasted.


End file.
